Sunday, November 30, 2008


Just a short post to say thank you all for your kind words and support. I feel like I have a secret tea and sympathy section just for me. Your words are like soothing salve on raw skin.

My girlfriend came over Friday night and we drank wine and swapped mutual heartbreaking events. The next day I spent the whole day in bed utterly exhausted and spent or hungover - not sure which. I was supposed to go see my mum, but I just called her instead. I just couldn't find the energy. I was also supposed to see some old Buddhist friends, but they cancelled and I mercifully spent the night on the couch. I rallied long enough to go out and get myself to some delicious Alaskan black cod with sweet dark sauce and rice from a local restaurant. Ah, a slice of heaven. Then my friend's sister called to let me know she was finally in hospital.

Got a dog walk with Sampson's old girlfriend and her family, lunch with the folks that cancelled and a big Buddhist meeting and a play to go to tonight. No more rest for the wicked.

Thursday, November 27, 2008

Slipping away

Back home. So good to be home. I must say he keeps a cleaner house than I do. My plants are not doing so good and there's no food in the fridge, but the house is clean. Couldn't ask for more. Except for my husband who left today for a business trip. Sigh.

I'm glad I went to be with D. I suppose it will be the last time I will see her. By the time I left she was not really eating, she could barely swallow her morphine pills and her eyes were often glazed and unfocused. Before I left, I had her name a friend who could be her point person. I had called her friends together to decide who could cover the gaps in the home support schedule. I printed out phone numbers and put lists on bulletin boards. The nurse came again and asked her all the tough questions. Surprisingly she wanted to be recessitated if necessary. I'm not sure why she said that since she had refused once again to be hospitalized. I called her sister in the West Indies and made sure she knew she had to come immediately.

I woke her up to say goodbye and told her that I loved her and she told me that she couldn't tell me how much she loved me. That's when my tears began to fall. Her friend, another Buddhist who chants nam myo ho renge kyo, held me in her arms and said daimoku for me and then I left.

I'm still getting reports, her sister has finally arrived. She is getting weaker every day and I don't suppose she will last much longer without hospitalization. Her ancestors are calling her and it won't be me that wishes her to stay.

Now I know why I was meant to be there. To bring everyone together. She refused to ask for help so I did it for her. I called and they came. She is so loved.

Tuesday, November 25, 2008


I woke up really early this morning wanting to go to the bathroom - the light in the hallway was on, which meant that D was up. I stayed put and decided to go back to sleep. When I got up 2 hours later, guess where I found her - you guessed it. Asleep on the toilet. I hauled her up and she put her back to bed. I wrote up an action plan for her which included the choices available to her. I barely got her up in time before the nurse and a palliative care coordinator came this morning to have a meeting with her. They recommended she go to the hospital immediately because they were concerned her lungs were filling with fluid. She refused. I sent them out of the room and had a private chat with her. I asked her what she wanted. She made it clear that if she went to the hospital or anywhere else she couldn't take her herbs because they would put medicine in her. She was done with western medicine. But every day she says she's going to make the herbs and every day she is unable to and she won't let me do it.

I hung my head, drew a deep breath and went to tell them she wasn't going and what could be done for her at home. There was a whirlwind of phonecalls and questions and now I have a few hours to put a put a plan in place and then pass the info on to a point person before I leave. I could wring her little scrawny neck. Yeah, I yelled at her a bit - I had her the phone and tell her to call her point person and she says she wants to think, she needs five minutes. Yeah, I said, why don't the rest of us sit around and wait on her. It's not like we mind being inconvenienced. I warned her that the minute she becomes incoherent (and she's had her moments) or becomes unconscious, she will no longer have any more control as to what happens. I know she is not ready to die, but she's waiting for the divine and I hope she answers her call. As much as I understand, I am frustrated! I have to make these phonecalls that I don't want to make. I have to hear her relatives pain in their voices as they try to understand what can and cannot be done for her at this point. She should have had a plan in place, a power of attorney done, but she has not done so. There is a profound reason for this. And I have to just let it go because I cannot control this situation and it's not my responsibility. But as one who has gone down this road before with my mother, those that are left to caretake and do all the grunt work, are the ones who pay the price when critically ill people don't prepare for the worst ahead of time. I love her but I'm a bit pissed.

I will get to go home and others will fill my place. There will be a schedule of professional caretakers, family, volunteers and friends to fill in the gaps. They have a limited amount of hours they can provide personal care to her. It will be depleted in about a week, unless another relatives can show up from out of town which apparently is supposed to happen Monday. I hope that woman realizes what she's getting into.

Ah, I need a drink.

Monday, November 24, 2008

Now comes the tough part

Things have gotten worse instead of better here. My girlfriend is weaker. I went out Saturday night to spend time with an old friend and when I came home, she was on the toilet, unable to get up. I asked her how long she had been there, but she said it had only been a few minutes. I did mention that she probably needed a raised seat last week but she brushed off the suggestion and now here I was planting my right leg between her, her arms around my neck and my arms under her arms, hauling her upright. It seemed like a long time to go 6 ft. She sat on the edge of the bed, breathless. Last night, a friend of hers dropped by and before he left, I quietly murmured to him how bad it really was. Someone had to know, I was leaving in a few days, someone had to know the truth. Then we repeated another late night lifting ritual after she nodded off on the toilet for over an hour. I knew she had, but I waited patiently for her to ask for help. She needs to ask for help. I waited and I waited and by the time I had gotten her to her bed, she was sweating with effort, unable to raise her head off her chest. She seems bound and determined to stay in her home, and get more help or friends to come in but really she needs a couple of weeks of in a respite care facility. She cannot get down the steep flight of stairs to the front door. She cannot get herself something to eat or drink. She cannot prepare the herbs she wants to take. A few extra hours here and there with a support worker will not make a difference. She's fighting it, but I only have a couple more days to be like water over a stone. She says she wants to think about it, but time is running out. I stayed while the nurse came to check on her, making sure she really knew what was going on instead of what my girlfriend allowed her to know. She shot daggers at me with her eyes, but I didn't care. I'm the Buddhist with an Edge.

Another relative is coming next week, but are they prepared to be with her 24/7? Can they lift her time after time after time? Is their back strong? I know she'll get better, but for now my love comes in homemade soup, a ready smile and a boot up the ass.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Wisdom on a fridge

Something I found on my friend's fridge that I'd like to pass on to y'all.

Remembering Self Love
An affirmation
By Cynthia Long

What if I had a gentle, irresistible alarm that went off within me, telling me when my body needed sleep, rest, meditation, movement, comfort, pleasure, joy…and I had to listen to that alarm. What if that alarm was created by my intention to love myself enough to begin by opening to these aspects of self-respect, so that they may lead to my readiness to love the world from a place of wholeness, and in this way offer my gifts. Would I not then be of wholeness, and in this way offer my gifts. Would I not then be completely empowered, and strong enough to be of the value I have always wanted to claim?

What if it’s true that I have created every obstacle as I would mould a clay dragon before me, and I can just as easily crush each one to dust by refusing to believe in it anymore, by no longer giving my faith and power away?

What if it’s true that the only thing that stops me celebrating each moment is the subtle, unconscious habit of believing I am not fit, that I should be punished for my failures of the past? And when I let go and stop condemning myself, there is nothing left but all possibility, anything and everything that gives me true joy.

What do you love? Who do you love? How would you live if you could make no mistake and simply followed your heart?

That is the gift you give to others.
Stop trying.
Start allowing every dream its rightful birth.

Monday, November 17, 2008


I'm in Toronto with my friend, taking care of her for a while. I've told you about her before. She has triple negative breast cancer that has metastasized into her liver and lungs, etc. She recently returned home from a healer in Peru but she's completely wiped out. I'm here making vegetable juices and cooking and shopping for her, keeping her company for a while. I can't tell her what to do but that doesn't stop me from trying. It's a little like caring for a sick child, she's kinda fussy and whiny, but she can't catch her breath if she moves too much, and she barely has strength to sit up. But I've noticed her mouth still works and she has no problem asking for what her juice in a particular cup. I honestly don't know what she would have done if I couldn't come. It hurts to see such an independent woman barely able to do for herself.

She's encouraged however for her future and that's what counts. She sees her illness as a spiritual journey. A lesson she has to learn. I understand on some level, but I really don't know. I think she's getting better, I hope she does. I pray she does. It's supposed to snow on Thursday.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008


Please take a good read on Teendoc's comments on my two previous posts. She writes:

All I can say about that as an adoptive parent in open adoption is that I've never seen or heard about any open adoption relationship that resembles such a scenario. I am my daughter's mother and my husband is her father. We are not co-parenting with her firstparents. We exchange letters, e-mails and phone calls and periodic in person visits. (All of this is decided by the adoptive parent before you match...if you are not comfortable with in person, just do cards and letters).

I always appreciate her candor because she just gives you the straight goods from one who has been there. I have however heard of such scenarios as overnight visits and frequent visits from the birthmothers themselves. I just have to stick with our boundaries and hope we get chosen. When I look at her and her little one, I can practically feel little feet against my face and smell the top of baby's head. It gives me such hope that I too can be a mother.

Just to clarify, I was not implying that it's a bad thing to be wealthy and adopt. I just find it annoying and stressful that I'm not wealthy. Having said that, you should see my shoe collection and my royal butt has felt the comfort of business class. I don't exactly live in a van down by the river. I think I was just frustrated on the heavy emphasis on money. It's like hey, Miss Bargain Hunter, look in the clearance bin over here - we've got some good kids here, they're a little scratched and maladjusted, but with a good coat of paint.....! Argh! We had also reviewed another package of US lawyer services and it itemized everything, from filing of this paper to fees for a paralegal. It's daunting to me because I am an actor and an unemployed actor. I'm just one US national commercial away from realizing my goal. I truly believe that at the onset of the whole thing, the financial aspect was just theoretical, and since the economy was doing well, and DH's job was bringing us all sorts of benefits we were confident that it would continue and all our money struggles would be over. Frig, I was this close to being a lady who lunched! I would have hoped my career (which is quite impressive on paper) would have prospered better than the previous year, I would have hoped that the economy didn't tank and affected my husband's job, but that is not the case. We do have retirement savings which we will use and we don't have a problem with that. Cause we'll just have to make more. There will be no financing and no borrowing. I will be at home to take care of the child as neither one of us will have parental leave benefits. I also don't want to put this off as I am not going to get younger as time goes on. As IF veterans know, time waits for no woman and I'm either in or I'm out.

I just feel bad sometimes because I know my husband would move heaven and earth to make me happy. And that fact that I cannot contribute on a larger scale, is a thorn in my side. (Why why why didn't I become the lawyer my parents wanted me to be?) So if I see one more Brangelina story about their ever expanding family (look, I can adopt and birth my own!), I'm gonna puke. Yeah, I've been drinking the Bitrex, I hate to admit it. I promise I'll count my blessings and readjust my attitude later. Just let me vent my spleen a little.

I will do whatever I have to generate more income but realistically, I may have to dump it all if I get a certain phone call. I am committed and determined to bring about the best circumstances for us both.

In the meanwhile, I will go to and play

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Bitter aftertaste

I just thought of something that I really want to add to my previous post. I didn't want to adopt a child because I thought I could AFFORD to adopt a child. I wanted to adopt a child because I wanted to love and raise a responsible, caring human being. I knew I had enough love and enough common sense to nurture and take care of a child until they could take care of themselves. Selfishly, I wanted to be called "mother". I knew we both had enough love and common sense to really enjoy having a child. I've known that for a long time. I never expected to not get pregnant. I never expected failure. I never expected that someone would choose us based on the ability to pay for said privilege. I guess that's just a reality I never really had to think about. And yet when I see couples of on certain adoption websites, the one thing they all share is that there are quite financially well off. They've got the big house, the car, the toys but no children. American birth mothers can have the potential adoptive parents pay $1200 a month until they deliver, hospital expenses, the lawyers have to get paid, papers have to be filed in court, the social workers have to get paid, everybody wants to get paid! That's the reality. And if you're a decent human being that's just a bonus. We're not rich, despite appearances. I would prefer to use the money for a university education or say, uh, a house. I don't want a kid that I can buy STUFF for or dress up like a doll. I just want an opportunity to be a real mother right from the beginning of their lives.

I'm just feeling a little bitter right now. I'll get over it. Right?

Another birth mother panel

We attended a birthmother panel from our adoption agency last week. It is mandatory for all their clients. I have to preface this by saying that I am aware that I have a bias already, as one who wishes to adopt a child. I am also aware that their experiences don't always mirror the experiences of others. I'm leaving out a few identifying details as well. There were 3 birth mothers, including one who shared her experience last year. I have to say, that it was quite obvious that these young women loved their children. In no way did I get the impression that they did not consider the children they gave birth to as not theirs, though they did not claim proprietorship. One person asked what they looked for choosing a profile. They talked about looking for something that clicked with them, whether it was an activity they liked or a love of dogs. Of course, they were looking for a couple that were financially and emotionally stable. They noted that if they had gone through infertility, that was a plus because it showed the couple could weather hard times. Then they went through the book, picked the ones they liked and then met with each of them. Based on how those meetings go, they make a decision.

I did ask why they decided to not parent their children. They all said it was for financial reasons. Because of their life circumstances, including jerk boyfriends who broke up with them, they felt that they could not give the child what they deserved to have.

One girl was an adoptee herself. She expressed how painful it was growing up not knowing where she came from. She believed it was in the best interest of the child to know their original parents. Another girl had given up TWO of her children. She became pregnant in high school, relinquished the child and THEN changed her mind and kept the child for 4 months before giving the child back to the adoptive parents. The second time was a couple years later (apparently she forgot about the torment she went through) and became pregnant again. She made a remark about wanting to have children of our own one day but until then she could go to someone else's living room to see her children play.

Another birthmother expressed that she was having difficulty in seeing her young son because the adoptive parents were not returning her calls and letting her see the child on the birthday or Christmas. Her next step was for mediation. I don't know the details of her open agreement with the parents, I don't think it's legally enforceable, though, correct me if I'm wrong. I could tell she was really distressed about not being able to spend time with the child. At the same time, I could well imagine the adoptive mother trying to deal with a growing child's questions as to what role she played in the child's family life. She may have had holiday plans that did not include the birth mother or realized that she wanted to control the frequency of access to the child.

We left as soon as it was over, dashing out. I did have a charity function to go to but that wasn't the reason I was in such a hurry. I have to admit, I got the impression that adoptive parents had all expense and responsibility of raising a child and the birth mothers still wanted to play a big part in the child's life. The issue may be the frequency of contact, the type of contact and the fact that people often change their minds about open agreements. What happens when teenage rebellion rears its ugly head and the birth mother can easily become default parent? DH and I discussed the type of agreement that we could live with when we get chosen. I get that open adoption is what's best for the child, not the adults. I don't mind being in contact with a birth mother, knowing the person and important medical factors, but I don't want to have a monthly visitation either. I want to be a child's mother, not a babysitter or a guardian. I certainly know how DH feels and he happens to be a very protective person. Trust me when I tell you he's not as flexible as I am. I appreciate and respect a woman's choice to have a child and place it for adoption so that they can have a better life. That's a kind of sacrifice that I could never understand. I've already thought of the type of gift I would give the birth mother to commemorate the child's birth.

I've read adoptive parents' blogs about open adoption and I've read the books about how important it is for the child. I get it and I would never keep their origins a secret from them. I guess I just have to wait and see what happens and just keep my heart open.

Sunday, November 9, 2008

Sweet Romance

I decided to take over our anniversary as it was evident that DH was a bit stressed about money. He always makes special occasion plans, so I thought it would be nice to take over for a change. So I decided to recreate use our first date as inspiration. And with a handy pay cheque that came in the mail that day, I had the means. First of all, he sent me a beautiful bouquet of flowers. (Unfortunately, I was out chanting at a friend's early that morning but they redelivered as soon as I got home.) Gorgeous - yellow flowers, peach roses, sunflowers, stargazer lilies, etc. A bit of sunshine on a gloomy day.

Then I went out and ran around a little bit to get all the things I needed. A single red rose for when he got home with a homemade card. For dinner, I went out (in a monsoon, I might add) and brought home Nando's chicken (spicy rotisseries chicken) for dinner. We used to have that when we were dating. A nice romantic dinner with wine in the kitchen. Then off to the location of our first date - Commodore Billiards and Bowling. We played a few games of pool, and it was really fun. I even reminded him of what we talked about that night - how we bumped into my ex in the way in, how he thought he didn't have much competition in that department. I even sunk 3 balls in a row - not too shabby. Then back home and I presented him with the videos of "Sleepers", our first date movie and "Romeo and Juliet" the movie we saw when we realized we were in love. That one was a bit difficult to locate but I got lucky at a drugstore, believe it or not. He even got a bonus gift of "The Untouchables". Next up was a bag of candy and chocolate for the movies. Oh, yeah and of course, cupcakes from Cupcakes. Delish! I love the red velvet with cream cheese frosting and he had mint condition (chocolate with mint). I lost weight last week so I figured I could afford to splurge a little.

He was really impressed and touched by the whole thing. He couldn't quite stomach watching "Romeo and Juliet", (remember I told you he never really wanted to see it in the first place) but we did watch our favourite Lord of the Rings: the Two Towers. I was so happy, it was just the kind of fun we needed. See? Romance doesn't have to cost a lot, it just has to mean something special for the two of you.

And I had enough money left over to have a deluxe pedicure the next day. Hah! Victory is mine!

Friday, November 7, 2008

You just know

Okay, okay, I don't really have time to write that much, as today is my anniversary and I told DH that I would take care of the evening.

But I want to clarify a few things about how we met. When I met him I really wasn't looking for Mr. Right anymore. I had pretty much given up and was just trying to enjoy myself. I drank a lot, danced my ass off in gay clubs and spent $20 a week on food. I honestly had doubts as to whether Mr. Right or Mr. Reasonably Okay even existed. I was working and getting gigs and was getting by. I finally figured out that I was quite attractive and I was learning how to deal with men. I had learned to disengage myself from men who exhibited bad behaviour. If I a guy stood me up, (and it happened), I called him and chewed him out. If he didn't know to take me out and be considerate, I stopped returning his calls. If he wouldn't wear a condom, I left.

What impressed me about DH was that I felt that he was never late picking me up, always kept his word, tried very hard to be romantic and considerate. He loved to laugh and tease me; he was outgoing and fun. He would sing to me and surprise me with flowers, he would drive me wherever I needed to go. He brought me ice cream when I had cramps, we talked for hours and he never made a pass at me. That had never happened to me. So despite we saw each other every day, we waited for a few weeks before we consummated our relationship. When I told him I was moving back to Toronto to do a show, he told me that I should do what was best for me, that I shouldn't come back to Vancouver just for him. That if I decided to come back, it would be because I really wanted to. One night, we went out to see Romeo and Juliet (you just know, he could care less but I wanted to see it) and when we returned to my place, he became really quiet and intense. He stood by the window, not really saying anything and I just knew then that I had fallen in love with him and I knew he loved me.

I just knew.

I called the ex and let him know that he should not expect me to come back to him, that I had met someone else and it was serious. The ex was surprised, stunned, hurt and completely taken aback. True, we had messed around a bit and he was an amazing kisser, but I knew that that was not a good enough reason to be with him. He felt that I had never given him a second try to rekindle our old relationship. And that was that. I knew the difference between the two men by the end of the call. One man wanted what was best for me even if it meant that he would never see me again and the other never bothered to ask me if I was happy. He never asked if I truly loved this person and could have a life with him. He never asked me what I WANTED. Not once. At one point, he had actually told me that he never understood why people thought I was so special. He was only concerned that I had hurt him. When we had been together, he had treated me so shabbily, so poorly and I kept going back for more. I actually went into therapy after we broke up. Five years later, I was stronger, more assured and tired of settling for whoever picked me. He was not a bad person, he just wasn't for me. So I didn't feel that bad letting him go on his way. I deserved better.

Now for the hot little summer fling that I had, that was a little harder. I kept him a secret for a while but eventually I had to pass up seeing that tasty little morsel again. Tee hee. Love makes you do crazy things.

Thursday, November 6, 2008

One more Obama story

One more Obama story, can you stand it? Our politicians are rarely so interesting. In Canada, we like our prime ministers white and boring as drying paint. Okay...moving on. Going to a birth mother panel tonight and I will let you know what I learned.

Blind Date

As promised, the day before our 7th anniversary, I wanted to let share how I met DH - a gajillion years ago on a blind date.

I was doing extra work (for a show called Madison) on a dark and rainy night in the middle of nowhere. As I entered the extras tent, I noticed a tall dark man huddled up by the gas heater. I had recognized him before, I had seen him on set before playing a fireman. I sidled up to this good looking African guy and noticed he was reading One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez . Mmm, intriguing. They paired up us in a car and we chatted a little bit and by the end of the night, it was still raining and I asked him to drive me home. He was going to visit a buddy who lived in my neighbourhood, so he obliged. As he was driving, he called him up on his cell and told his buddy that he was coming and he had a cute but lippy black woman in his car. Before I knew it, I was on the phone and his buddy asked me out. I was not really looking to hook up with him, but I said sure, as long as I wasn't working the next day we could meet for coffee. I had been seeing my ex and a young summer fling floating around in my head, but what the heck, I was single and uncommitted. My new acquaintance started chatting his buddy up to me, so I surmised he wasn't too interested in me.

The next day I gave him a call and a woman's voice was on the answering machine. I hung up. A minute later, the phone rings and it's him (caller ID) and asked if I had just called. I said, yeah, but who was the woman's voice on the answering machine. He explained that he lived with 3 roommates, 2 of which were female. Okayyyy. So we make a plan to meet at Starbuck's later that day. And there he was, as described. Close shaven head, brown eyes waiting at the door. Waiting for me, as in didn't get his coffee before I came in. Good sign. So I have a cappuccino and he has a juice, apparently he doesn't drink coffee. He was sweet and funny and though I went in fully determined to keep my mouth shut, I found myself blabbering on about myself. Then his pager goes off. Yes, this was the time of pagers, people. He was a correctional officer and he had to go to work. Yeah, sure, I thought, that's his buddy getting him out of bad situation. So as he walks me to the corner, he smiles and says that he'd like to continue our date sometime soon. I'm like, yeah, sure, call me and I go off to meet my friends. Whatever, nothing ventured, nothing gained. That night he calls me and says he truly had to go to work, it was not his buddy calling him and he really enjoyed meeting me. Sweet. He really did have beautiful brown eyes.

Meanwhile, my ex was in town for business. You know, he was one of those guys where years later, you give your head a shake and think what the hell was I was thinking?! The actress and the nerd. But it was years later, I was over it and all of a sudden he wants to see me. I'm thinking, maybe for closure, I don't know. But it's obvious, we still have the same physical spark we always had and I'm just trying to figure out why the universe has sent this man back into my life. I didn't love him anymore, but maybe I should try again. A week later, DH calls me and we make a date to go out. I'm feeling like, ah, this is the life I was meant to live. Going out, enjoying life, happy and single. The ex wants to get together but I tell him I have "other plans" and he should go out with this business colleagues.

We went to play pool. As we're walking into the pool hall, guess who comes out? The ex. Yep. And he wants to hang out with us. I tell him I'm busy and try to pretend I'm not freaked out. I'm not sure my ex realized I was out on a date. I'm completely rattled and eventually confess to my handsome date and we have a good laugh at my expense. At this point, DH doesn't know the full extent of our history, but still I feel a little awkward being out with one guy while another is trying to get back together with me. Later, we went to see the movies, "Sleepers" with Kevin Bacon. Yeah, not exactly a date movie but there ya go. As we are leaving the movie, I get a message on my pager that my ex had left his briefcase at my place and had to get it back that night. Oh great. So as we pull up in front of my apartment, I'm hoping he's not at the front door waiting for me. I'm actually sweating. Whew, he's not there (he's actually around the corner at an all night bakery) and I get a nice goodnight kiss. DH also promises to take me to work the next morning cause he kept me out so late. Off he goes and the ex shows up 10 minutes later. He has to spend the night because at this point he can't get back to where he's staying because the transportation was no longer running. And no, we did not have sex. Honestly, what kind of girl do you think I am?

Fast forward to the next morning and I'm trying to get the ex to leave as early as possible. Finally, I get him gone and 5 minutes later, DH shows up as promised (on his day off) to take me to work. Sometimes it's a curse being so hot, honestly. The ex leaves town the next day and I end up seeing DH every day after that. I am relieved when he is gone. He has sucked all the positive energy out of me. I was so depressed. I was actually moving back to Toronto and I thought, is that all there is? I would end up living with this guy because I had no one else. I was pretty sure he was planning out the wedding invitations. Sigh. It was obvious that he hadn't really changed all that much, I was definitely not in love with him and told him so repeatedly and as usual, he was intent on only believing in the fairy tale in his head. But when I was with DH, I felt light and happy and that he really wanted the best for me. No sad history, no bad memories. I felt safe with him. Free to be the woman I had become. And 5 weeks later, we fell in love and went looking at rings. Now the journey for the actress and the prison guard to actually getting married is another story. :)

So there you go.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008


Congratulations to America and President Obama! I was working while the election was going on, but the French Canadian clients were keeping updated on their laptops! They raised a glass of wine and toasted to Obama's victory. Now the French Canadians don't like anybody so that's saying something. I would have cried had I been home, but I was at work so I had to just wait til I got home to toast Obama. What a resounding, historic victory! I know, I know, I'm Canadian, but still.... you gotta admit, it's a momentous occasion on this side of the world. I never would have believed it - a black President in my lifetime. Honestly, I thought I would only see Dennis Haysberry's "President Palmer" on "24". I don't think it has even sunk in yet. It was even that long ago, when blacks were fighting just for the RIGHT to vote.

Race is always such a big issue for Americans. You have people voting for him just cause he's black. That shouldn't be surprising. Some people voted for McCain because he's white. Some people couldn't get past how unlike Obama's name was compared to theirs. He wasn't one of THEM. Had one of the candidates been a Mexican-American, you could be sure that someone would have been searching high and low for the relative that was in the country illegally. They liked Sarah Palin because they looked just like her, their friends looked like her. They wouldn't invite Michelle Obama over for tea, now would they?

Hello folks, his mother was white. That should make some people feel better, though strangely it doesn't. That makes him mixed. He's been shaped by more than one culture and that would make him better equipped than most to be compassionate and knowledgeable in world affairs. He has an understanding that can be only experienced by someone like him. That makes him unique. And to those who talk about his "ties" with a domestic terrorist - are you kidding me?! Just because you served on the same board with a radical, doesn't make you one. As a matter of fact, experience in dealing with such people might actually come in handy. As for Obama having a socialist agenda - do you truly know what socialism is? Give me a break - he's a president not a dictator, please don't lose sleep over that one. You have had presidents, both Democrat and Republicans, that have been adulterers, crooks, liars of incredible magnitude, war-mongering morons. You almost impeached one of your presidents, remember? You voted in a former actor, so don't get too upset about Obama's lack of experience. He's not alone in all of this. He won fair and square, of that there can be no doubt. Be as gracious as Sen. McCain. You know what you should really be afraid of?

Every time, a man stands up to be a true leader, a good leader, a man of vision that can truly change the destiny of a country, one American stands up and kills him. Now that's what you should be truly afraid of.


Tuesday, November 4, 2008

My Canadian 2 cents

Thanks Luna!

Infertile's guide to babysitting

I just read this article at LoriBeth's blog, the Road Less Travelled , you've got read it - called the Bubble of Silence - so powerful! If you want to read what it's like for an infertile living in the fertile world, you won't want to miss it. Please note, if you are said topic, it will cut straight to your heart.

As an artist, and not a "brave" one like the author, I want to explore the topic - but it certainly makes you a bit of pariah in polite circles. I know a few colleagues who have become pregnant and haven't personally told me the good news because they know I can't have my own. You don't call up your Orthodox Jewish friend and invite them over for ham sandwich party, right? Still, what do I do? Do I call up about to pop any day now person and ask how they are or should I wait for the birth announcement?

Seriously, people, I should start a babysitting service for actresses - because I will have no mother friends when I get my onedayinthenearfuture baby. I've avoided young kids and babies out of sheer necessity. And apparently no one uses babysitters anymore because I have yet to socialize with parents who are not always with their children. Recently, I was at a birthday celebration in a restaurant and one guest brought her 18 month old in a sling with her. Her husband was working and she had him with her all night. At one point, she went outside for about 30 minutes walking around in the cold until he fell asleep and then she came back in. I don't think she had a bite to eat. She doesn't own a stroller and doesn't mind walking around for hours at a time with him in the sling. I'm sure she has the back muscles of Michael Phelps (Olympic swimmer). She also doesn't allow him to socialize with other toddlers unless she's involve directly in the play. Mmm, apparently there is a school of mother thought that believes this is necessary. I don't know anything about it, but I can assure you that I will not follow suit on that matter. Wouldn't young mums like a break every now and then?

I can watch them from 8 - 10pm, so they can go out to a movie or dinner (not both) and I can entertain them with old dog toys or or sock puppets. If that doesn't work, I've got a big plasma TV and they can watch videos while I play online Scrabble with my headphones on. I draw the line at Telebubbies. I can change diapers, if I can do my mum's, I can do theirs. I have a strong stomach. And aromatherapy products. I better read a book on infant care, eh?

Monday, November 3, 2008

Itchy and Cranky

I'm thinking of changing my subheading to rants and musing about my ever changing state of mind. You know, as much as I don't want to admit it, I may indeed by perimenopausal. I have many of the symptoms. Of course, many of these symptoms are also side effects of Effexor, so it's a little confusing. Still, it would explain a lot. I'll go get a blood test by the end of the week and check out my hormone levels. At first, the drug made me a little nauseous which curbed my appetite, that's cool, I can live with that cause my waist could use a break, but now I've been craving carbs like there is no tomorrow, mac and cheese, oven fries, and you know how I love candy. Seriously, I would skip dinner if I could have candy instead. Last week, I ate enough Mike and Ike's to give myself a sugar headache. True, I was on my period, but if I continue to eat like that I will end up where I was last year. In a bigger pant size! And I'm throwing out my fat pants, people. I honestly don't feel like working out (but I do of course) or even getting off the couch. Maybe I'm a bear and just need to eat a lot and go sleep in a cave for the winter. I've also noticed that I can have a couple of glasses of wine, but I actually don't get a buzz. I would seriously like a buzz people! What's a glass of wine without a warm, fuzzy feeling? I'll tell you what that is - expensive Kool-Aid. I don't sleep very well, I get sweaty, but I'm not tired when I get up. Of course, Effexor can cause sleep disturbances and increased sweating. See what I mean?

I'm not actually suffering too much, I just want to know what I should do. Maybe a naturopath can get this all sorted out for me because I'm tired of being itchy, confused and cranky.

Saturday, November 1, 2008

Trick or Treat

Ever get on the phone with someone who talks on and on AND ON about stuff and then when it's your turn and you get in to some emotional talk about your dog dying and then she has to go, it's her mother calling through on the line? Really. Yeah, well, she can call me back. Sometimes being on Facebook is a curse - all sorts of people get a hold of you and want to talk to you. There's a reason they're not on my speed dial. Never mind. Just ranting.

I got up early yesterday and chanted 2 hours with my friend. Now, I suppose I should be feeling better after all that daimoku - but I don't really. Sometimes, all the noise in my head just gets in the way and it was just one of those times. My friend's chanting was throwing me off, my mind just wouldn't settle down - it's like I had all these wants and needs and I didn't know if I should chant for them all or just put it all aside. Still, the day was somewhat productive. I finally caught up to my old agent and chatted with her briefly just for some closure. I felt sad about it, I really did, but we hugged and left it at that. Then dropped some stuff off at my new agent, more stuff at the union, re-ordered more headshots, then onto the liquor store for a nice cheap bottle of shiraz. I was planning on dropping by the home to see my mum at the Hallowe'en "party" they were having at the home, but I was running late (cause my old agent is never available in the mornings... which is why she's my old agent) and I decided to just call it a day and spare myself the slow-mo geriatric entertainment.

Holed up for Hallowe'en with DH and a box of Mike and Ike candy (glorious candy!) for both of us and thought about how nice it would be if I could dress up and give treats out to little ghosts and goblins. We don't really have to worry about that living in high rise heaven. Small favours, right?